


Heymans is tired

by orphan_account



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: AH I FORGOT TO MENTION, Action, Adventure, Alchemy, Anal Sex, And I know that alchemy offers a lot of possibilities, And got carried away, Belly Kink, Blood, Chimeras, Fights, Flame Alchemy, Gay, Gore and sex, I AM FRENCH, I don't think it works, I hope not, I know, I wanted it to have a scenario, IT'S MY FIRST ONE AND I'M ALREADY LOST, It's weird to mix action and kinks, M/M, NOT scientifically accurate!, Oops, POV First Person, Romance, So there might be mistakes, WHAT THE HELL IS THIS FANFIC, Weight Gain, and I forgot to add, but even then, crime solving (sort of), or maybe, that's a lot of tags, who can say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-10 17:42:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12916968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Takes place after the end of the serie (I think?) Mysterious kidnappings take place in Central, people start disappearing randomly. Heymans Breda is on the case, and while his intellect is boosting he might forget to take care of his body as much as he should...(Does this sound shit? I'm rather terrible at summaries)





	Heymans is tired

The sweat. Oh god, it's terrible. The heat, the ache, the _tension_ within my whole body, the violence surrounding me, the overall pain. My vision is blurred, and my brain can't seem to work correctly. I wonder if I'm bleeding. Of course, I'm covered in blood, but it doesn't have to be mine.

I know it is a strange feeling, but I wish I were naked right now, because even my clothes and weapons weigh heavily on me at the moment. They dig cruelly into my skin, they increase the heat, _the bloody heat._

 

How did this happen?

 

Of course, this is a stupid question. I know how this all happened, because it is my fault. Yes, I, second lieutenant Heymans Breda, is truly the one to blame.

But for you to understand I might have to rewind a bit. To this morning, when everything started. Or maybe a few months ago, when everything really started.

Let's say it was more than an intuition. Let's say I was really onto something, for once. Even though, if I noticed anyting unusual at the time, I really can't tell what it was. I was just walking along the streets, thinking about nothing in particular, when suddenly...

Well, suddenly what? Something must have happened. Because suddenly my senses were alert, and my heart was beating fast. As if some kind of switch had suddenly been pulled above the world. As if the light, the people, the universe was suddenly slightly different.

And of course I was the only one who felt it. No one else in the street seemed the least bothered; I almost got run over by an angry bike-rider.

So I went back to the military office, trying to forget what happened. I almost ran into sergeant Fuery as I tried to get into the building.

"Oh hi!" He blurted, cheerfully.

"Hey."

He then opened his mouth, as if he was trying to say something, then frowned and gave up. So logically, I kept walking.

Upon arriving at the office, I was loudly greeted by _Officer-in-charge-Havoc_ , or simply "Jean" as i like to call him, since it's... literally his name.

"Have you got the donuts?"

Of course I had absent-mindedly eaten the donuts on the way. I am not even going to try and defend myself on this one. Just a tip for you: never give me any sort of food, if you can avoid it. It triggers a mechanical reaction; as my thoughts drift away I will _immediatly_ start eating it, whatever it is that I'm holding. I've been tricked into eating mud once or twice, and noticed nothing. But that's beside the point. As a trained strategist, I replied:

"You told me last week that you wanted to stop eating donuts all the time of you'd get addicted, so I didn't buy you any."

He looked genuinely confused, maybe because I'm such a good liar.

"Huh, really? I don't remember..."

"Hey, I'm sorry, but I take my orders from you, not from you," I answered with a wink and a chuckle.

"Right, but should't ya take orders from yourself sometime, too?" He replied as he point at my gut.

Of course, I knew this one was coming. I had recently found that I couldn't fit into my usual clothes, so I supposed the comments would soon follow. 

"Yes, I'll do that. When you stop smoking!"

"Oh quit it you two" Hawkeye suddenly ordered. "We have a case on our hands."

She seemed tense. Mustang was sitting lazily on his desktop behind her, charging us with a stern stare. We both straightened.

"What's going on?" Jean eventually asked.

"Falman is reported missing."

"What?" I asked. "But it's impossible. I've seen him just a few hours ago!"

"His wife just called me to ask if he had arrived at the military office, because apparently he left in a deep state of distraction. Obviously he's not here."

"He could be lost."

"In his own city? I've sent a couple men to look for him, but there seems to be no traces of his location."

"Central's a big place."

"I know. But it's concerning. If you have any idea where he could have run to, please go and look for him. He had important files in his posession that we can't afford to lose."

Jean and I went almost immediatly. I remember that it took us the entire day, and still we found no clues. No one seemed to have even sighted him, apart from his family when he left. The investigation went on for weeks, under my personnal command.

Nothing. For all we knew, he had somehow vanished into thin air.

Which reminded me of my weird intuition, the very morning he went missing. It could have been a coincidence, but I thought it was worth investigating further. I discussed it with Jean the following morning, over breakfast which we had in his home.

"Like a sort of a flicker?" He asked after I explained it to him.

"Not quite as obvious. This is the term I used to describe it, but only afterwards. In all truth, it is probable that nothing happened, and yet. I feel like this affair is bigger than it seems."

"Your intuition is usually correct, so I wouldn't be surprised if you were right, know what. It's incredible, but your gut feelings are almost always correct! Maybe because you have so much gut yourself."

He chuckled, I winced. I hadn't expected that one.

"Joke aside though, if you think there is something else, I'll be more careful from now on."

"My gut feeling is all we've got at any rate. Not like we can rely on much else for now."

You can bet that I was absolutely _delighted_ when I found out that my intuition had been correct. It was as if someone had been listening to me. More and more people started to disappear without a trace. Mostly militaries, some police officers, and ordinary citizens even. Sometimes State Alchemists.

I started to feel personnally attacked. This case was particularly annoying, because despite the evident crime, there were absolutely no clues, no pattern emerging from the list of people who had been captured. The police, private detectives, no one seemed to find anything useful. Theories were sprouting all over, none confirmed or verifyable. 

This is when I pretty much lost grip of myself. I grew more and more obsessed with this case, spending countless hours studying the possibilities, links between the victims, investigating the places where the various kidnapping took place.

I lost control of how I was eating, too. I ingested snack after snack, as if I was trying to grease my intellect. I don't think I could say that my weight doubled, but it was how ot felt. Suddenly I was ripping my pants, and my shirts could barely reach my belly button.

And worse even, I didn't care. My mind was simply elsewhere. I barely took the time to buy some bigger clothes, and went back to my study. My beard grew denser, along with my hair that I forgot to cut from some time. I neglected to clean my house, which got messy with scraps of papers and photos covering most of my floor.

A lot of books, too. Believe it or not, it was at that time that I suddenly grew interested in alchemy. Anything that could make me progress on the way to truth. There was more than basic human ability behind those kidnappings, I was sure of it.

Eventually Jean got concerned about me. We were alking towards the office, once more, when he brought the subject of my health onto the table. For what I remember, it was pretty clumsy because he didn't want to offend me. I should have listened better, but once again my attention wasn't on him. My eyes were focused on my surroundings. I felt strangely awake, as if I could extend my senses to my surroundings.

And I _felt_ it.

Like a sudden rush of wind coming from behind. I barely had time to lift my hand up slightly; even that small movement required intense efforts, as if air had suddenly become solid. And then it stopped, brutally. And it took me some time to realize exactly what had happened.

"I know you're concerned about all this, but really, seeing you so reckless all the time," Jean continued, unaware of what had juste happened, "you should, y'know, take care of yourself, a bit?"

I was bleeding. As it turned out, the extremity of my middle finger had literally exploded, and two of my nails were broken. But I was holding onto a tiny bit of tissue, and that was what mattered.

A _clue_.

Finally.

"Jean?"

"Yeah?"

"He's here."

I am honestly proud of how fast he reacted.

"Where?"

"He just ran past me, and there's two directions to this road. Take whichever you want, I'll search the other one."

He sprinted forwards without even asking anything, trusting me blindly. I ran backwards, barely taking the time to suck my broken finger. The adrenalin covered the pain for the moment, I was only slightly worried about the blood I was spilling.

I eventually stopped running. I knew I wouldn't find anything, because I had picked the wrong side. I couldn't feel anything anymore, and there was barely a soul on this side of the city. I was nearly out of it, at any rate. Also, the pain was suddenly kicking in, siding with the effort it took me for running this long after all the weight I had put on.

I painfully walked back to the military office, leaving tiny drops of blood behind me. I was furiously sucking my finger by this point, but some of it went out of my mouth and dripped from my lips. it made me look like a sort of vampire.

Hawkeye was the only one at the office when I finally arrived. Her eyes narrowed as she saw the blood, and she seemed furious.

"What happened?"

"Hell if I know."

We heard the door brutally swing open behind me, and Jean suddenly stepped in, breathing heavily.

 "I didn't catch him! But I think he took Fuery! Did you find anything? Wait, is that blood?"

"Who? What are you two talking about?" Hawkeye interrupted.

I was sweating. The pain was barely tolerable. I still raised my bloody hand, to show the strap of tissue I had torn.

"I got this," I explained, vaguely.

And then I felt my strength leaving me.

"And now I think I'm going to faint. If one of you could catch me... careful 'cause I'm a bit heavy..."

The last words died in an incoherent mumble as i stumbled backwards. I woke up the next day in the hospital, feeling much better. Jean was sitting next to me, quietly smoking a cigarette by the window. I had a strong feeling of déjà-vu. Except last time I had been the one on my feet. For some reason I felt somewhat embarrassed.

"How are you doing?" He asked me without turning to me.

"I feel dizzy."

I clenched my fist and then opened it. The strap of tissue had been taken from me, but I still felt its print on my skin. I elevated my hand slightly. My middle finger was much smaller than my index now.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jean suddenly asked.

I didn't like his tone. He sounded disappointed, as if I had done something wrong.

"Didn't have time. We needed to react fast."

This time he stopped smoking to turn and face me.

"You need to stop doing all this. Hurting yourself all the time, as you've been doin' these days! Why are you so reckless all of a sudden? What is it about this case that's making you lose all your carefulness like this?"

"Was it Fuery?"

"What?"

"You heard me. Was it Fuery, who was taken away this time?"

"Yes."

"And I should take care of myself? The best way to do it is prevent this from happening again. For all you know, _I_ could be the next victim."

I jumped out of bed smoothly. I didn't like how my belly bounced at all, but I didn't have any time to thing about it. I had a theory to test. But for that I needed books and a map.

We both went to the library, where I studied the case over a plate of sandwiches that Jean kindly made for me. The strap had confirmed my worries. It came from a white glove, and bore traces of a circle: we were probably faced against a powerful alchemist.

"Here," I said as I pointed to a drawing in the manual I was holding. "Acceleration powers. This is how the guy managed it; he's so fast we can't even see him."

"Wait," Jean replied, somewhat confused. "This says you have to be in the circle to benefit from the acceleration. How is that possible? He would have to turn the whole city into a giant circle!"

"It happened before, but we would have noticed by now. I think I have the explanation. But I need to discuss this with Mustang before we start investigating."

From then on things went extremely fast. Ironically. I already knew that underneath Central was a huge and complex underground network of tunnels, sewers and hidden rooms. So Mustang, Jean and I went to investigate it. After five ridiculous minutes we found it. Circles, hundreds of them, on the roof of the sewers. The formed a road that crossed the city from west to east, thus confirming my theory.

"Impressive," Mustang muttured eventually. "They must have been activating those circles while they were running."

"And I think I know where they're hiding!" I quickly added, flourishing a map.

I quickly explained how it worked: since it was always the same line, you just had to follow it out of the city until the speed died. Simple, but smart. And we just went there, straight away, without wasting another minute.

Morons. Fucking morons.

Looking back, there were so many things we could have done. Send a team to scrub those circles of. Take the time to check our weapons. Bring soldiers with us. Think.

We did none of that. 

We quickly arrived in front some sort of a cabin. We opened the door, only to find a giant beast eating the arm of a crying woman. It was a chimera I think ; a weird mixture of human and lizzard. Jean drew his gun, but before he could even do anything, the beast was already on fire, thanks to Mustang. It screamed in pain but didn't seem to be affected much by the attack. Jean managed to shoot it twice before it unrolled its tail and dragged us all inside.

I was thrown against a wall, and my head banged hard against the wooden frame. I blinked twice and tried to get up. The room was filled with corpses and skeletons, probably those of the people the beast kidnapped. I felt like throwing up.

Mustang seemed to have the situation under control ; he dodged most of the hits while responding with fire, each time more violently. Jean had managed to shoot the beast in the eye. Myself, I knew I would be useless in the fight. I wondered it there were still prisonners I could save. I ran towards the nearest door, but it was locked.

I looked around me for a way to open it, when someone did it for me from the inside. I laid there, stupidly staring at the man in front of me.

What did he look like? I can't exactly remember. All I remember is that he seemed old. And his grin...

Then I felt my right hand explode from the inside.

"I expected some people to find us sooner or later," he said softly. "It's just more food for my wonderful pet here. Marvelous, isn't he?"

I didn't listen, because I was in agony from the pain. He clapped his hands and I was suddenly lifted from the floor. I hung into the air, gasping for breath.

"You're remarkably fat for a military," he noticed. "Lucky me."

After that... it's hard to tell. I think Mustang finally intervened, or maybe it was a gunshot from Jean? I fell like and old bag of trash and could do nothing but watch as it happened.

The beast biting most of Jean's shoulder, the alchemist turning Mustang's flames against himself. The fire ran wildly, feeding of the wood in the walls. I could barely see anything with all the smoke. There was blood everywhere... there is blood everywhere.

Where does it come from? Is it mine, or Jean's?

I try to stand back up. I can't feel my broken hand anymore, but the heat is unbearable. My vision is blurred. Is that Jean lying on the floor near the window? I don't know if I can reach him, with athe fire blocking my path. But I have to. Mustang and the other alchemist are still fighting. How can so many things happen in such a small room?

I jump, skip, dodge, and fall by Jean's side. His left hand is resting on the remains of his right shoulder. He seems to be in immense pain, but he still tries to raise his gun in the air. He's aiming at the beast, who's resting a few meters away, apparently stunned.

"I can't... lift my arm..." He grunts.

"Don't worry, I'm here."

I gently place my hand on his wrist, and help him raise the gun slightly.

"What should I aim for? The eye or -(he grunts)- the heart?"

"Neither," I reply. "Shoot for the throat. It's still... somewhat human I think."

I realize that he's crying. Hell, I've never seen him cry before. It's probably the smoke, or the pain.

The beast turns its head towards us, slowly. It frowns, reaches for us.

Too late. The gun jerks away as Jean pulls the trigger. A shower of blood rains on us, and it collapses against the wall, breaking it in two. A smooth rush of air comes into the room, and some of the smoke escapes.

It feels so good. The alchemist shouts something angrily. Mustang's shoulder is pierced with some kind blade.

"He won't make it," Jean whispers as he realizes. He lays against the wall, unable to make a movement.

"We're doomed," I reply grimly.

But are we? I still have one hand and two legs. I can't use the gun, because I'd probably end up shooting Mustang instead of our enemy. But... haven't I learned a trick or two recently? Those long hours spent in the library, isn't there anything I can gather from them?

"Heymans," Jean asks weekly. "Why don't you run away?"

"I have an idea, I think."

I need to draw a circle. I can certainly use the blood leaking from my body, but I don't have any surface to draw onto. The floor is eaither cracked, burnt or covered in more blood. The same thing goes for the walls. I could draw a tiny circle somewhere, but I need it to be big, if I want to insert all the details. Hope I remember them right.

"Why... why are you taking you shirt off?"

I don't have time to answer. I clumsily stand up and draw a circle on the protruding shape of my gut. My fingers are trembling, but the shape is not too complicated thankfully. For some reason, even in this desperate situation I have time to be embarrassed. Jean stares at me with round eyes. But that's not the worst yet.

What I am about to do I need to is elementary alchemy ; the circle simply gathers all the moisture from the air and cristallizes it in whatever shape I desire. But in order to do that, I must clap my hands together, and one of them is only a sack of broken bones.

I take a deep breath. To even think about it, I feel nauseous. But I don't have much time. Mustang looks like he'll collapse in any minute.

My finger are shaking, but I raise my right arm. How strong does the shock have to be? I won't do it twice, so I can't afford to be wimpy.

"Heymans, what are-"

His words are interrupted by my screams. I did it. The circle on my belly shine a calming blue. It hurts so much, but I can feel ice forming on my right hand. 

The cold is a blessing. It shuts the pain into a coffin of silence. I try to give the ice a pointy shape. It's extremely heavy, but I've got a solid block on my right hand. Soon the fire that still consumes everything around us will make it melt. I take one step forward. Mustang is sitting against a wall. His gloves are torn apart, and blades are sticking from his palms. The other alchemist is turning his back on me.

I don't know his names or his motives, but he's going to die. The ice digs a neat whole into his neck. He barely has time to open his mouth before life is dragged away from him. He falls, merging with the corpses that already cover the floor.

It's over.

 

Fifteen minutes later, a truck arrives to pick us all up. Some of the kidnapped people are still alive, among them Fuery and Falman who, to my relief, haven't been eaten. They stack up at the back of the truck, ready to go back to Central. Mustang will be hospitalized soon. They will probably use one of the old philosopher's stones on him if his wounds are too important. Jean received a first-aid kit for his shoulder, and is now restling safely against one of the remaining walls of the cabins.

Me? They gave me a blanket to wipe the blood of my face and glanced a weird look at the circle on my enormous belly. Or just at my belly, who can say what surρrised them the mosτ?

Since the truck is full they promise to bring another one for Jean and I, we just have to be patient.

I sit next to him, resting the block of ice on the grass and my left hand on my belly. It is slowly melting, but I hope it will survive a bit longer. I don't really want to see what my hand looks like now.

"That was so impressive, that trick you pulled at the last minute," Jean tells me with admiration. "You saved us all."

"I guess. But it's still my fault if we've been in this terrible situation in the first place. If I hadn't rushed things like this... oh but I wanted to be smart. I wanted to impress. I've been so stupidly foolish... and I payed the high price for it."

Jean laughs.

"Why does it have to be your fault? We all agreed to go, we rushed the case because we had to. All those people in the truck, they could have died if it weren't for you! See, you keep treating yoυrself wrong, even when you act like a bloody hero!"

He smiles broadly at me, but I look away. And my belly betrays me by emitting a loud complaint. I feel all the more embarrassed about being shirtless.

It's really weird how much weight I gained in such a short amount of time. Weird how I was so obsessed with my researches that I didn't care at all about it happening. But my arms are large, my thighs look like pieces of ham; I have a solid double-chin and man-breasts that I would happily get rid of.

"Hero really... I'm not exactly hero-shaped though."

"Who cares about that! You didn't save us with you good looks, did you?"

And one that note, the second truck arrives.

 

 

A few weeks later, I'm sitting in a small restaurant, eating by myself. My right hand has been alchemically sewed back together, and though it's pretty ugly it works fine now. Mustang is still in the hospital but his life is no longer endangered ; as for Jean he's perfectlγ healed.

Speaking of the devil, here he comes.

"Howdy ho! How are you doing?" He asks as he sits at my table.

"Pretty good," I reply as I finish the cake I was eating.

"I have good news to announce!"

"What kind?"

He takes a very formal pose.

"I, Jean Havoc, have finally decided to stop smoking!"

"That's... amazing!"

And I am sincere, despite my hesitation. But I remember our deal; he can damage his health by smoking and I damage mine by getting fat, and nobody judge each other. Also if one decides to take the right path, the other follows.

But I suddenly realize that I can't. Worse, I don't want to go back, to lose weight. I feel ashamed of myself.

"Now, I know you want to accompany me on this special journey by finally having a diet. But Heymans, I have bad news for you. I am terribly selfish, and I think you look very cute, with all that fat on your body. And I might ask you to keep it!"

"Oh thank god."

This is so unexpected. This means so much. Also he called me cute. Does this mean...?

"Now, I see your plate is empty. Do you want to leave, or d'you prefer to double that order?"

"How about I triple it and you help me finish?"

"Deal."

This isn't a good idea. I have already eaten plenty and my original order was pretty big. But I feel so stupidly happy about how outrageous this gets. I'm going to eat like a pig.

 

It's a good thing the food is delicious, otherwise I'd have a lot of trouble finishing it all. My belly seems to expand before my eyes. At some point I have to get up in order to go to the toilet. I try to pull my shirt so it covers my stomach, but to no avail. It barely reaches my belly button.

Once in get the bathroom, I look at myself in the mirror. I'm fatter than I've ever been. My pants feel tight and I can't button my vest any more. Yet he called me _cute._

Feeling ridiculous, I pull my pants down a bit, revealing the top of my underwear. Even my butt has grown noticeably. I pull my pants down a bit more. Half of my underwear is now exposed. I am ridiculous, buτ I can't help to grin stupidly, wondering if he'll notice. I know it's kind of humiliating, how more and more of my flesh gets exposed, the more I eat. And yet... somehow, I love it at the same time as I hate it.

I walk back into the restaurant ; when I sit down, the chair creaks. I eat the rest of my triple order, moaning and occasionally burping.

"Oow. I've never felt this full!" I exclaim as I place both hands on my belly.

"You're so big," he answers with an innocent smile. "I really, really appreciate you, y'know?"

I suddenly feel hot again. I know what he's trying to tell me, but if there's even a tiny chance that I interpret this incorrectly, then I don't want to risk it.

"And d'you, by any chance... would happen to like me too?" He then asks shyly.

Oh, you know what, fuck it.

"Bro, I think you're the best person that there is in the world."

He's crying. Jeez, I made him cry! What do I do?

He gets up. Sits next to me. Puts a hand on my gut... and kisses me.

Fuckin' finally.

 

We've booked a hotel room for the night. We wanted to have some alone time, see. 

As we got in, he dropped the keys on the floor. As I leaned down to grab them, I felt like I had comitted a bit of a mistake. My belly was a bit too full for me to get down, and when I heard a tearing sound I knew there was a big hole in my underwear.

Now, I rarely blush, but this one was a bit too much to handle. Especially when Jean put his hands into the whole and caressed my skin with his fingers. He led me to the bed, where he finished to take my clothes off. I was naked while he was till fully dressed, which made me feelembarrassed, and yet even more aroused. He made me eat even more, until I was so stuffed that I could barely move. My belly was bloated to it's extreme limits, and I was farting constantly, unable to contain myself. I apologized for it, my face red with all the heat rising to my cheeks, but he didn't seem to care. He pressed me against the wall and pressed his two hands against my gut. It was impossible for me not to fart in thiese conditions, so I let it out, feeling relieved.

He unbottened his pants, and inserted his erect penis into my ass. He started to trurst, first slowly, then more and more rapidly as he grew more excited. I kept farting the whole time that the thing lasted, but it didn't seem to bother him in the slightest.

Then it was my turn. Even though my belly had gotten so large that I could barely reach his butt with my penis, I managed it. He moaned when I released my sperm, and then landed on the bed, exhausted. 

I'm watching him sleep, right now, thinking he's the most beautiful being in the world. I rest my body next to his, and close my eyes.

 

It's the following morning. I wake up feeling like a ton of weight rests on my body. I try to stand up, but whith the state that my body is in, that's almost impossible. So I roll to the side and drop onto the floor.

I try to put my clothes back on, but I've gotten so much bigger that nothing fits. I can't even see my feet anyway, with how large my belly has gotten. So I walk to the small kitchen that is at our disposal, naked, and start cooking breakfast. I let out a variety of sounds as I walk, from grunts to stomach noises, to farts. I sit at my table and eat, and since Jean doesn't wake up, I eat his part, too. It doesnt matter, I can just cook some again for when he gets up.

I prepare the second breakfast, but he still doesn't come, so I eat it for him. As I'm preparing the third one, he finally comes into the kitchen, fully dressed of course, and slaps my butt.

"Slepts well?" I ask as I fry the sausages.

"Like a baby! Aren't you cold like this?"

"Nope. All that fat on my body warms me well enough, don't worry."

"Still, you can't go outside like this. How about I buy you some new clothes so you can go outside?"

"That'd be great, thanks."

"Seeya then!"

Now I have no choice but to eat the third breakfast. Since he takes his time, I go back into our room, see if I can't fit into my shirt with some efforts, and realize that it can barely contain my moobs. And just a few weeks ago it went all the way to my belly button! This really got out of control.

 

We decide to take a week of hollidays, just to stay in this hotel and have some fun. It's great. We exchange stories, play games, eat, and have a lot of sex. I get fatter and fatter every day. I'll probably get fired from the military but somehow it doesn't seem to matter. My belly is like my love for Jean : it keeps growing.

It gets to a point where I can hardly get up by myself anymore. Even the new clothes Jean keeps buying for me don't last very long. I break a few chairs from the hotel kitchen. The worst feeling is after a huge meal, when I feel my body pressing against the table and it hurts me so much that I have to pull back. Eventually Jean decides to lean on me and feed me directly.

I can definitely not be the top in the sexual relationship anymore, but it doesn't matter. Jean satisfies me more than I could dream of. Still, after a week, it is time to go. We gather all the clothes we have. I need help to put them on. The underwear can barely reach the top of my butt, which has gotten incredibly large. I can button the shirt. And there's no need to even think about wearing trousers. But I'm dressed, sort of, so we can go.

I open the door, telling Jean that he can go first, but he tells me to go, with a strange grin on his lips. What does he mean? Frowing, I step outside.

Or I try, at any rate.

I have gotten so big that I can't even fit into the door. I managed to pull most of my gut out, but my butt is stuck outside and I can barely move.

"Whut... the hell... is happening?"

"Looks like you're going to need help buddy?" Jean asks, trying to contain a laugh.

"No... I'm sure I can manage..."

I pull forward as strong as I can, but the only thing I manage to do is let out a huge fart. This is so undignified. Mypenis is harder than it has ever been, pressing tight against the top of my underwear, and the top of my gut, which cover is completely.

After five solid minutes of solid struggles, Jean finally comes to rescue.

"Are you _sure_ you you don't need any help?"

I grunt deeply, and fart once more. So much for my pride.

"No, please Jean, can you get me out of here?"

"Sure!"

I then feel him pulling my underwear down. What is he doing? His penis enters the middle of my butt ; which has otten so large, I wonder if it won't get lost in there. And he thrusts, and I can do nothing but moan and grunt. Because I've become totally dependent now. I can't do anything without his help and consent. I wet the insides of my underwear as I let myself go completly.

Whatever anyone thinks, whatever anyone will say.

I am, in every aspect of the word, satisfied.


End file.
